Lover's Song
by gothicbandgeek
Summary: Erik's only friend from when he was in the traveling circus turns up at the Opera House, and her relationship with the Phantom and the secrets of her past will cause the threads of fate to become unraveled...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This POTO fan fiction is a combination of the 2004 movie and the book by Gaston Leroux. I, of course, do not own or claim any of the characters that have made this story wonderful, but I do claim Luesa, who is a character of my own and I love her very much.

-Chapter 1-

The hounds barked loudly through the empty streets of Paris, 1870. Residents shouted from doorways and open windows to the running police, complaining of the racket. But they had more important matters to attend to, and if they were halted, they would never catch the girl they were after.

She was a quick one at that. By the way she dodged through the shadows, they surmised that it was possible she had been raised by gypsies in the South. They chased her across half of the city, and neither they nor the hounds had caught her.

They had almost reached the Opera House, when the dogs no longer barked. As the police rounded the corner, they saw why. Due to the heavy rains that had started earlier that day and continued even then, the grounds in front of the Opera House were blanketed in a little less than an inch of rain. The dogs had lost her scent.

"Damn that girl!" cursed the police chief under his breath.

"Sir," shouted one of the younger men of the group, looking up at the sky. It began to thunder and lightning. "We'll have to leave her be for now. If we don't get out of this storm, we're likely to get killed." The chief grumbled angrily, but he knew the lieutenant was right.

"C'mon gents. We'll have to deal with her another time." So they left, as quickly as they had come, to try and escape the worst of the storm. Little had they known that she had hidden within ten feet, under an overturned cart.

After the men had left, the girl crawled out from under the cart, looking around for a place to shelter herself. All of the shops in the square were closed and none had suitable cover. It took her two looks around the area to notice a grate in the side of the Opera House, right across from her.

She dashed across the short span to the grate, nearly slipping. At first, the grate wouldn't budge, but when she put her full force behind it, the grate flew open, causing her to fall back hard. She winced and cursed to herself, but knew she had to get out of sight.

Water quickly followed her in as she climbed down into the shaft beyond. With another heave, she closed the grate. It latched with an echoing click that bounced off the stone walls, causing her to flinch. She ran down the passageway, splashing through the thin layer of water that trickled along in front of her.

Eventually, the ground began to slope upward gently, and she slowed her pace. Leaving the rain water behind her, she stumbled along the dark passage, feeling her way more than seeing it. Ahead of her, she could see a faint light. Within moments she was in a small room, dimly lit by an assortment of candles that lined the walls.

Huddling in a corner, she looked around and tried to slow her breathing. She hadn't noticed until then how worn out her body was or how cold being out in the storm had made her. Closing her eyes, she soon fell into an uneasy sleep in a pile of something that made her rather uncomfortable, aching, shivering, wet, and yet still too tired to care.

Deep within the labyrinth beneath the Opera House, the Phantom was rudely awakened by the echoing sound of a metal grate being closed with grate force. As he sat, sprawled in his throne-like chair, he held his head with one hand. He had tried to rid himself of a terrible headache, which had now amplified thrice. "Damnable," he muttered.  
"Absolutely damnable." Stomping his booted foot, he decided that a nap was now out of the question.

Instead, the Phantom decided on discovering the source of the echo. Grabbing his hoodless cloak from the back of the thrown, he flung it around his shoulders, knowing how cold his personal hell could get on a stormy day. With a few powerful strides, he reached the edge of the small, underground lake, and he climbed into his small boat. Grabbing the long black pole beside it, adorned with a silver skull topper, he pushed off the rock bottom and soon was off, looking for what he assumed to be an intruder.

Creeping through rays of candle light, then darkness, the Phantom made his way through the water passageways. He had decided to give whoever had caused his pain to worsen a rightful punishment. Seething with anger, he nearly lunged from the boat when it reached one of the stairways.

Quickly but quietly, he made his way along dark hallways, most of the floors and walls dripping with rain water. Heading for the source of the sound, he entered a small room. Candles lined the walls, mostly lit, though the wind had put a few out. The room was almost entirely empty, but, in the corner was a huddled form, amidst a pile of bones.

Kneeling down, the Phantom studied the face that hid under the being's drenched hair and cloak hood. "Well, well, well...what do we have here?" Smirking, he chuckled a little. "What to do, my little mouse, what to do?" As he tried to decide what to do with the sleeping stranger, an idea, along with a sharp pain in his temple, hit him.

Gritting his teeth, he held his head again. With ease, he lifted the body into his arms, and made his way back up the passage. Within moments, he and his one person entourage were in the boat. With a quick look over his shoulder at the stranger, he smiled and departed for his lair...


	2. Chapter 2

Lover's Song

Chapter 2:

Madame Giry hadn't had a minute of sleep since the storm had begun. Such storms built up a strong, raw energy inside her. So, when the police had chased that girl into the plaza, she had been watching. She had also seen where the girl hid…but Mme. Giry's heart skipped a beat at the child's unknown foolishness,

The child had entered the dungeon of the Phantom. She shivered at the mere thought of what he would do to the poor creature. Though, there was nothing to be done to help her; if the Phantom spared her life, and found a use for her, it was then that he would send the girl to her. "My poor dear…May the Phantom spare your life…

When she returned to consciousness, she could scarcely recall where she was or what had happened. Suddenly, she felt a wave of nausea hit her hard. Curling into a ball, she choked it down. When the feeling died down, she noticed that she was not where she had been earlier.

Propping herself up, she found herself in a bed of sorts, a circle if you will, that looked similar to stone wings that wrapped around a red velvet cushioning. Too confused as to where she was, she hadn't noticed that her outer layers had been removed, and she was left in her silk and lace under-dress, now dry.

As if in a trance, utterly mystified, she left the stone bed, stepping onto the smooth but cold stone floor. Various trinkets of gold and silver lined the makeshift stone shelves of the room around her. Porcelain decorated in Victorian and Indian fashion fascinated her. She felt the gold frames of pictures and mirrors, hidden by warm, rich velvet. 

Waltzing around the room, the richness of the atmosphere enticed her. Suddenly, in the distance, she heard the most wonderful singing she had ever heard. It was soft, yet bold, with excellent accents and a unique bravado. Moments later, she realized that it was a man's voice uttering the sweet sound. She followed the man's heavenly voice, out of the room and down a spiral staircase, clinging to the wall. When she reached the bottom, she peeked around the corner.

Everywhere she looked there were candles. The glow illuminated her surroundings, and she found that she must be underground. The ceilings were lost in darkness, so bleak and foreboding that it seemed to change the atmosphere of the area, almost colder. To her left was the edge of a lake, topped with a thick mist. On her right was a large house, a continuation of the room she had just come from.

Stepping forward, she was stopped by what she found to be glass, blocking her movements forward and to the left. On her right though, there was another set of stairs, leading to the house. She had no other way to go but towards the house. As she got closer, the singing became clearer.

"…We never said our love was evergreen…" The voice stopped and began laughing. "Ah, she was wonderful last night! She will be perfect…Oh! And good riddance, Carlotta!" he roared, laughing louder. His laughter filled the stairway and cut through her, seemingly reverberating in her head and chest. She felt faint, and had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling.

She must have made a noise that caught his attention, because she heard a deafening silence from inside the house. From right next to her, though no one was there, she heard his voice. "Come in, little mouse…nothing to be afraid of…" She wanted to run back to the room, but she had already come too far to turn back. The voice compelled her, and she yearned to find out its source. Taking the last few steps, she found herself in front of a wooden door that was open slightly. She gave it a slight push, worried of what lay on the other side.

The glow from the warm fire in the room beyond bathed her pale skin in a golden light. She was drawn to fire…had been so ever since she was no older than five. Invisible hands seemed to pull her forward, as if the light emanating from the fire was a person. As soon as she had taken five steps into the room, she heard the door behind her slam shut, jerking her from her trance.

Without the counter balance of the force that had pulled her, she lost her balance and, luckily, fell onto a couch. Looking around, she saw many an ordinary item, of which no one would pay much attention to. A grand father clock, a plain chest of drawers built out of mahogany, the couch she had landed on with similar velvet covering to the bed she had awoke in. On the table next to her, there was a small gas lamp and also a few small books. The roaring fireplace, with various trinkets on the mantle, was directly across from her. Though the items were ordinary to the street dwellers above, the placement of the furniture and the fact that they were underground placed her mind in awe.

There were two doors in the room besides the one she had just ventured through. One, a large mahogany one, had gold leafing designs at the corners. The other, made of plain oak, was open, and from the inside, she heard an organ being played. Getting up slowly, she followed the sound into the room. There wasn't much in the room besides a few shelves and the organ which took up most of one wall.

At the organ sat the man, in a suit of black, with slicked back dark hair. He stopped every so often to write something down. Even though she didn't know it, the man knew she was there and was smirking devilishly. She took a look around the room, mostly at the objects on the shelves. Halfway down the third shelf she had examined, she found an object that made her gasp.

Quickly, she crossed the room and looked closer, just to make sure the object was what she thought it was. Sure enough, it was a tiny gold box that she had come in contact with years ago. She took the box in one hand, fumbling with the other at something around her neck and under the collar of her dress.

The man had stopped his work, rose silently and now stood behind her without her knowing, watching her with a grim curiosity. The last time someone had touched that box, other than himself, he had been a young boy and it had been given to him.

She retrieved a small key from a chain around her neck, and fit it into the keyhole. Turning it gingerly, she heard the latch inside click, and she opened it. Inside was the same ruby and diamond heart pendant necklace on the same silver chain that she had seen inside it before. She smiled, turned and, looking into the dark, puzzled eyes of the man behind her with her one black eye and one green eye, asked with a hint of hope: "Erik?"


End file.
